


Spoiled Past Saving

by narrativeimperative



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Evil Space Boyfriends, Face Slapping, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Restraints, The Force, Thought Projection, Unhealthy Relationships, Virgin Kylo Ren, but perhaps less sin than originally anticipated, enemies to enemies with benefits, nobody seeks consent, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-01 09:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6512113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narrativeimperative/pseuds/narrativeimperative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They weren’t friends, or brother officers, or even equals – but if they were going to share command of the Finalizer, Hux recognized that they at least had to work together without killing each other. Now if only he could convince Ren of that.</p><p>Or: Kylo Ren needs a strong hand. Hux needs a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Protocol

**Author's Note:**

> Did we need another one of these? No? GOOD I WROTE ONE ANYWAYS.

General Hux scowled at the requisition orders in his hand and sighed, sour at the prospect of having to re-route the supply carriers yet again.

There wasn’t protocol for this. 

There was never any protocol when it came to Kylo Ren. The man had stalked into the board room like he owned the ship, announced that they needed to take an immediate three-day detour to a planet Hux had never heard of, and stalked back out again, leaving broken supply chains in his wake and the General with a logistical headache.

Why? No good asking him why.

_I have seen it._

_The Force showed me._

_It’s destiny._

Mystic rubbish.

But Hux had long since learned not to rail against the absurdity of it all. He indulged Ren on Snoke’s express order, and their Supreme Leader apparently saw no problem in having two subordinates with wildly different mandates sharing command of the same vessel.

Although Hux knew that Ren’s presence on the fleet’s flagship reflected Hux’s own status as one of the highest-ranking members of the First Order, it also struck him as wildly unfair that no other General had to deal with the sheer bloody inconvenience of Kylo Ren.

Ren wasn’t an officer – frankly, Hux didn’t know _what_ he was, other than that he fell beyond the ambit of Hux’s authority. No matter how hard Hux and his team of elite officers worked, there was Ren skulking above it all, running off on whims of his own and generally doing everything in his power to endanger the tenuous ceasefire that existed between himself and the General.

The _problem_ , steamed Hux, staring at the carefully detailed plans that Ren had scuttled, was that he was a spoiled child – spoiled, selfish, and weak.

Oh, he didn’t doubt Ren’s Force abilities – he’d felt those invisible fingers tighten around his throat more than once – but to see that terrifying power wielded by a sloppy, undisciplined apprentice was like fingernails on the chalkboard of Hux’s precise military soul.

What a waste.

Not for the first time, Hux thought to himself that Ren ought to have someone to answer to – or at least someone to give him a proper hiding. Someone other than Snoke, at least, who was decidedly uninterested in the daily minutiae of running a star destroyer. Presumably Snoke had known what he was doing when he fitted the _Finalizer_ with two commanders; Hux didn’t presume to pry into the Supreme Leader’s intentions. But it was obvious to Hux that two leaders couldn’t take the ship in one direction, and some days it seemed like it was only a matter of time before one of them pushed the other too far.

Or perhaps Snoke just liked the sounds of his subordinates growling at each other.

Hux sighed, and activated his comm. “Dekko, alert navigation. There’s been a change of plans.”

“Yes sir,” replied the Lieutenant. “When you’re ready, sir.”

She responded fluidly, without any hint of curiosity. The _Finalizer’s_ officers knew better by now than to ask why Hux was changing plans that had taken weeks to prepare.

Hux gave her the new coordinates, then slapped his communication pad on the table and stared out the window to the planet beyond. This close, he could see the whorls of weather systems in its atmosphere. Storms were brewing and dying, playing out their lives in front of him in shades of white and silver.

Their best-laid plans, ruined on a whim of Snoke’s arrogant apprentice.

In the silence of the empty board room, he allowed himself the indulgence of swearing out loud.

Kylo Ren needed to be taught a lesson.

~~~

On the other hand, Hux had exactly no time to waste thinking about the errant knight and his _moods_. Commanding the First Order’s invasion forces meant that most of Hux’s days were spent untangling one administrative snarl after another. _This_ system couldn’t meet its materials export quotas, _that_ government was fostering insurrectionists – the list never ended. Waging a war against the Resistance came with an incredible backlog of necessary paperwork, even for a General.

Ren might enjoy the privileges of rank without responsibilities, but Hux had shit to do, and on a good day his work kept them out of each other’s sight. When Hux was lucky, they could go for weeks without running into each other.

Frankly, he was happiest when he didn’t know where Ren was.

But Ren had a special talent for showing up at precisely the wrong moment – which was why Hux’s anger, usually so carefully banked and controlled, was at the boiling point as he stormed into hangar bay E-42. He’d received a communication, delivered by a carefully expressionless Lieutenant Landis, that Kylo Ren had authorized a dozen of his key marksmen for active duty.

Hux had prevented himself from swearing on the bridge, but it was a near thing.

Sure enough, when he marched into the hangar bay, Ren was there, ostensibly overseeing the launch prep. 

He didn’t turn at Hux’s approach, though the General’s march across the hangar floor sent the prep team scurrying out of his path. 

“What are you doing?” demanded Hux, not bothering to keep his voice down. 

Ren didn’t bother to turn to face him as he replied. “I have a lead. I’m pursuing it.”

In a back corner of his brain, Hux wondered how many ulcers he’d developed since becoming General, and how many of them had been caused directly by Kylo Ren. “The hell you are.” Ren couldn’t commandeer Hux’s pilots at will; they were waging a war, on a _schedule_ , and the _Finalizer’s_ troops were a finite resource.

“Supreme Leader – ” Ren began.

“Our Supreme Leader has ordered the _Finalizer_ to support the troops on Ventra,” Hux interrupted, moving directly into Ren’s field of vision, “and I need all available pilots for that. I won’t have you put the entire fleet on hold for the sake of your _feelings_!”

Hux realized too late that his voice had risen to a shout. The troops in the hangar bay had paused in their work to look back at the pair of them, startled. They jerked back into motion when Hux glared at them.

“Supreme Leader Snoke places a high degree of faith in my _feelings_ ,” Ren replied slowly. There was a touch of challenge in his mechanically modulated voice, daring Hux to go any further.

Hux stared into that bloody mask, blank and impenetrable and just a few frustrating inches higher than his own eyeline.

They couldn’t do this here – he couldn’t risk reaming Ren out in front of the troops. Neither one of them was officially under the other’s command, and if they sunk their teeth into each other in public one of them was going to lose face – and Hux wasn’t so sure that it wouldn’t be him. He didn’t mind the idea of embarrassing Snoke’s golden child, but he wasn’t willing to be Force-choked in front of his own stormtroopers.

And it was made worse – so much worse – by knowing that Ren was utterly indifferent to all these considerations. That black mask just floated there, confident of getting its own way, happy to wait out Hux’s cold anger, as he always did. Just like he ignored everything that stood between him and what he wanted.

Hux jerked his chin towards the exit. “Not in front of them. This way. _Now_.”

He turned on his heel and made his way to a side door, which lead to a small break-out room. He didn’t pause to see if Ren obeyed; he could hear the bullish clomp of the man’s boots as he followed, almost lazily.

The door closed behind them sharply, and Hux turned to face Ren. He was dark against the backdrop of stars, broad shoulders a little hunched, as though he had never in his life considered standing at attention.

For some reason, that thought irritated Hux more than anything.

“I don’t know what you think you’re – ”

“Your pilots will accompany me to the surface,” Ren interrupted. “I’ll return them to your command when I’ve found who I’m looking for.” A pause, then – “I know you don’t like other people playing with your toys.”

If Hux had been thinking about the consequences, truly thinking, he might not have said it – but the months of Kylo Ren’s insubordination and temper tantrums had taken their toll.

“If you didn’t have that mask on I would slap you.”

Hux wasn’t sure what Ren’s reaction would be, but there was only a moment’s pause before Ren reached up – slowly enough to be insolent – to the back of his head and pried the mask off.

It had been a long time since Hux had seen that face – he’d almost entirely forgotten what Kylo Ren looked like. It was like looking at a stranger. Pale, odd-looking, long-featured.

“You’re welcome to it,” the man in front of him said in a bored tone, tilting his head lazily to stretch his neck.

The blow came fast and hard, open-handed; the solid crack of Hux’s leather glove on Ren’s cheekbone rang in their ears.

It was hard to say who was more surprised.

Ren didn’t seem to know how to react at first; his dark eyes widened, and his narrow jaw clenched tighter. That pale face looked too pale, almost garish, against the black backdrop of stars, incandescent with sudden fury.

_He hadn’t expected Hux to do it._

Hux felt better than he had in weeks.

“You know I could kill you right now,” growled Ren, fingers clenching around his helmet.

Hux had only a second to prepare himself before he felt a roaring in his ears and a blistering pain at the front of his skull – rage, Ren’s rage, in seething waves. It cut so deep so quickly that for a moment Hux was afraid he was going to collapse. There was nothing in his head but Ren’s fury, nothing to brace himself against, nothing between him and the rising fire – and then it was gone as quickly as it had risen, a warning, leaving only a ringing hollowness in his ears and a weakness in his bones. It took every fibre of his being to keep his body from shaking with relief, but Hux managed it.

And then he nearly grinned.

Ren _was_ mad.

“Then it seems I’m at the mercy of your self-control, Lord Ren,” Hux breathed, stepping in close enough to crowd. This close, he could see the beginnings of a pale blush on Ren’s cheekbone. Ren was powerful enough to kill him – Hux knew this. He also knew that Ren daren’t. Even now, shocked and embarrassed, his anger wasn’t quite strong enough to take him that far.

Snoke had two servants, after all.

“Now,” Hux began in a voice barely above a whisper, “You can take my pilots, this time. I’ll alert the fleet to the change in plans – _again_. And if Snoke asks why his flagship isn’t at Ventra in time to support the ground assault, it will be entirely on your head. But this is the last time you make a move like this without my authorization.”

Hux didn’t wait for a reply before he turned and swept out of the room, leaving Ren standing in front of the viewscreen, helmet clenched awkwardly in his hands.

On the bridge again, relishing the adrenaline that was still humming in his veins, he allowed Landis to clear the ships for launch. Near-death experiences had always had a clarifying effect on Hux.

_This is going to make things more complicated._

It was true – but since the thing was done, he let himself enjoy it.

That night he went to sleep with his usual headache and new the image of Ren’s face before his eyes – pale, shocked, jaw ground down in a flash of anger that he couldn’t suppress, a warm hint of rosiness where he’d been struck.

~~~

As it happened, Ren had Hux’s pilots out and back with barely a ripple in the fleet’s timetable, and he returned with a Resistance agent aboard, broken and bleeding and primed for interrogation.

Ren had always been good at interrogation, Hux begrudgingly admitted as he scanned the post-mortem. He knew next to nothing about the Force, and he had no desire to know – the twisted, slavering relationship between Kylo Ren and his master didn’t make it seem at all appealing – but he respected that Ren got results.

Days came and went, and it seemed that Ren was taking pains to stay out of Hux’s way, or at least not to actively interfere with his duties. Hux was viciously glad – he had enough troubles to sort through without Ren underfoot.

And yet. 

His anger at Ren’s behaviour, his resentment at being saddled with him in the first place … those feelings hadn’t disappeared, but they were tempered, for the first time, by a sense that something could possibly shift between them. It didn’t take a Force-sensitive to foresee that something would have to give sooner or later.

He wasn’t a self-indulgent man, but sometimes he allowed his thoughts to wander back to that slap – how good it had felt, how good Ren’s reaction had felt.

He hadn’t expected Ren to be taken aback.

He hadn’t expected Ren not to lash right back at him.

And if Ren was purposely avoiding him, that made this even more delicious.

He supposed he could summon Ren and push the issue, stick his fingers into the bruise – but that was absurd. He didn’t actually desire his presence – and for what purpose? He had no desire to have Ren skulking in his quarters, petulant and insolent. No, until Ren got his courage back and began destroying equipment again, Hux would enjoy this temporary peace.

In fact, he was almost considering celebrating the one-month anniversary since he’d last dipped into the “wear and tear (Kylo Ren)” account when he received an alert from Lieutenant Dekko as he was standing on the bridge.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” he snapped, when she seemed to pause.

She handed him her pad wordlessly.

This time, Hux did swear.

~~~

Hux hadn’t been sure that his clearance code would let him access Ren’s chambers – certainly he’d never tried before – but he punched in the override and the door opened without complaint.

“Ren! Where are you?” He barged his way through the empty antechamber and into Ren’s living quarters.

Ren looked up abruptly from the other side of the station where he was working, staring into a cross-section of a planetary hologram. It took him a moment to compose his features at Hux’s intrusion, and Hux didn’t miss the glance he shot at his mask, propped up on a stand a few feet away, clearly regretting the fact that he wasn’t wearing it.

Hux wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Ren’s rooms – perhaps gaudiness, or disorder – but the chambers were sparse to the point of asceticism. Sitting alone at the desk, bathed in the blue glow of the hologram, Ren looked slightly unmoored, the only living thing in an otherwise empty space.

“You spoiled child,” Hux spat, crossing the length of the room in angry strides. In his left hand he carried the data readouts, and he slapped them onto the table.

“I was, rather,” Ren replied, in a tone that didn’t quite make it all the way to indifference. He waved his hand as he stood and the hologram disappeared, leaving only a weak line of wall lighting for illumination. It made his dark eyes look black. “General. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Hux was in no mood for games. “You know damn well what.”

Ren glanced casually at the readouts sitting between them on the table.

“I know you don’t think the welfare of my ship concerns you, but when you divert power – ”

“It was necessary,” Ren murmured, reaching out to nudge the top sheet of paper with an ungloved finger. Then he met Hux’s eyes, and had the audacity to shrug. “It’s only temporary.”

“Do _not_ interrupt me.”

Hux’s voice was firm. Ren’s pupils widened, just a little.

Ren’s eyes tracked him as he moved around the table and deliberately stepped into Ren’s physical space. He’d been carrying the read-outs in his left hand; in his right, he was carrying a slender black crop – ornamental, standard Order issue – and he chose that moment to place it on the table with a crisp snap.

Ren squared his broad shoulders and set his jaw, but it wasn’t quite enough to erase the suddenly uncertainty in his face.

Perhaps Ren realized that he’d gone too far this time.

_Good._

“Do you enjoy watching me clean up your messes?” Hux asked, the pitch of his voice falling well below the danger line.

“It’s a pleasant side effect. Don’t mistake me, General, I – ”

“Strip.”

Ren’s face froze mid-sentence. Hux’s face was a mask, and it gave nothing away, but Ren was not so lucky. That ridiculous headgear had ruined his ability to control his face, if indeed he’d ever had it – that bottom lip was too expressive. The smallest twitch spoke volumes. And unless Hux was deeply mistaken, that was the tense jawline of a man who suddenly wasn’t sure what he had got himself into.

After a second or two, the line of his mouth curled, as though he was certain Hux couldn’t be serious.

“ _Really_ , General?” he asked in a mocking tone.

Amateur – Hux was above a fumbling manoeuver like that.

Ren’s smile stalled as Hux began to loosen his jacket buttons, ignoring Ren’s reluctance completely. With quick, efficient motions, Hux shucked his coat and cast it aside on the back of the chair, quickly followed by his uniform jacket.

“Are you deaf, Ren? Take off your robe.”

“What are you doing?” Ren asked with narrowed eyes, as Hux began to unbutton his shirt to reveal the plain white undershirt he wore beneath. The cold air of the room was bracing on his naked arms. 

“This is the last time I’ll repeat myself,” he said, voice low and even as he folded his shirt. “Take off your robe or I’ll take it off for you.”

It was a gamble, and Hux could see it play out on Ren’s face. Ren was physically the superior of the two, by any measure. Hux may have been a General, but he was slighter and shorter than Ren, unarmed and completely devoid of whatever psychic powers Ren had at his disposal. Ren had flaunted his authority so many times before, and gotten away with it. There was _just no physical reason_ for Ren to obey him now, to do anything he didn’t want to.

Except – 

There, that nervous smile, trying its best to look predatory.

Once again, without warning, Hux felt that terrible screaming heat at the front of his skull, the battering pressure against his mind that hit like a carrier whenever Ren chose to lash out with his Force powers. It was like standing too close to a viewport when a ship passed by a star: a heavy, relentless, indifferent blast of power.

And there, for the first time, Hux could feel a sliver of conscious thought, resting against his brain like the sharp edge of a scalpel, no pressure, just a warning. Ren had never done this to him before. Hux had seen him take over other men’s minds, but had never known what it felt like. He was aware suddenly – because Ren wanted him to become aware – of how little effort it took for Ren to press him there, and how much more strength he had at his command, to use if he chose.

 _What is this, General? –_ the words were faint, hardly more than the slenderest impression, but they sliced through his mind effortlessly.

Hux repressed a shiver, and tamped down the nausea rising in his gut.

“Ren, if you don’t stand up straight when I’m speaking to you, you’ll regret it.”

The pressure dispersed like mist.

“You have a strong mind, General.”

He felt Ren retreat from the outer rim of his mind with a tinge of mocking deference – he was leaving because he could, not because Hux made him, he seemed to say.

Hux also sensed that that was Ren’s last gambit.

Poor Ren – he had the Force, and he had brute strength, and that was all. 

Ren had lacked the wisdom to prevent them from colliding like this – and he lacked the courage to go any farther. And now it was Hux’s turn.

There they were – two men standing too close to each other in the cold light of Ren’s room, breathing a little too deeply after that last thrust of Force power.

“Alright, General – I’ll bite,” he said with a low, curving smile – a smile that said he was interested in whatever game Hux was playing, but he certainly wasn’t obeying because he had to.

Hux didn’t believe it for a second. Hux knew better, could feel it. He’d gambled correctly.

“Be silent, Lord Ren.”

With a cautious quirk of his brow, Ren unbuckled his cinch. He wasn’t wearing any armour, just that ragged robe, which he discarded to reveal simple, plain black garments underneath.

“Shirt too,” Hux ordered, when it looked like Ren was about to stop.

He pulled it off over his head in a single move, long white arms bared in the half-light.

Hux reached out and picked up the switch. Ren’s pupils dilated as Hux tested its spryness between his hands.

There they stood, Hux in his undershirt and jodhpurs, and Ren stripped to the waist, totally unable now to keep the wariness off his face. 

“You didn’t have to,” Hux reminded him, digging into that uncertainty and pulling it to the surface. “But you did.”

Hux knew Ren trained physically as well as spiritually, but he hadn’t considered what that would mean for the body now standing in front of him, shoulders curved inwards with resentment. Even with the poor posture and the sulky lip, Ren was a specimen. And while Hux hadn’t thought about it until this moment, in this moment, the frisson of lust he felt run down through his stomach seemed like only the natural continuation of everything that had come before. 

Bringing Ren to heel could be enjoyable in more than one way.

But that was incidental.

“Turn around and grab the desk with both hands,” Hux ordered, business-like, as he adjusted his own stance. Ren paused just long enough to prove that he wasn’t jumping to orders, then turned, placing his long white fingers on the desk. There was nothing for him to grip. The angle was such that his head bowed, just a little, heavy locks falling down on either side to bare the nape of his neck. Even in the low light, Hux could see scars along his body. Training scars, battle scars, etched into his tenderest places – the side of the abdomen, under the arms, anywhere a weapon would strike to kill. Most were shallow and pale, but there were parallel lines that were fresher, marks from his previous discipline regimen. Whatever his training had been, it wasn’t all meditation.

“What do I have to do to make you obey me?” Hux said aloud, half to himself as he ran the tips of his fingers over that skin, enjoying the feeling of the spine beneath the muscle and flesh.

It had been quite some time since Hux had felt another person’s skin against his own.

“You aren’t my master,” said Ren. “I don’t obey you.”

“Hmm. Let’s work on that.”

The first smack came before Ren had prepared for it – Hux had been goaded by that tongue – but Ren rocked into it expertly. The crop sang against his skin and the muscles in his back clenched deliciously.

The second one was sweeter, as Hux adjusted the grip. Ren’s back arched.

“No,” Hux breathed, touching Ren’s shoulder as the man shifted to steel himself for a third blow. “Don’t move a muscle. You don’t get to make this easier on yourself.” He wasn’t about to allow Ren to rock with Hux’s momentum to lessen the sting or the weight of the blow. “Stand. Completely. Still.”

Ren raised his head and grinned, face reflected in the heavy black gloss of the bulkhead. There was a touch of colour on his brow. “You’re a perfectionist.”

“Correct.” Hux struck him again, letting his arm extend fully with the lead-in. Ren gasped at the impact, but didn’t move this time. _Perfect._

Hux let himself fall into an easy pattern, not concerning himself with counting, but paying attention to the lines of Ren’s body – stiff and unyielding, resisting the momentum of the strikes, as he’d been ordered to do.

Corporal punishment was routine for soldiers, and even junior officers – Hux bore the marks of his own education at the Academy. Apparently it was nothing new to Ren, either – but it was new between them.

“You need discipline, Ren,” Hux said quietly, his voice unaffected by his own exertions. “Of all the people on this ship, you’re the only one who doesn’t know his place.”

“You mean under you?” Ren gasped, unable to keep from shivering under the next blow. His breath was coming a little quicker now. “Do you think this is going to make me – ah! – obey you?”

“I’d settle for a lack of outright insubordination. But right now, if you can’t say ‘yes, sir,’ then I don’t want you to say anything at all,” Hux whispered, and Ren twitched his shoulders, but fell silent. The only noises that passed between now them were the sound the crop made as it hissed through the air, the sound of it on Ren’s flesh, the quick breaths Ren sucked through his teeth.

Sweat had gathered along Ren’s neck and back, and his arms were shaking with the effort of bracing himself against the low desk. There was sweat on Hux’s brow, a pure reaction to his physical exertion, and he enjoyed it – it had been too long since he’d felt his body like this, powerful, primed. He relished the sharpness of the air in his lungs as the effort of striking Ren began to tell.

Ren’s hands were flat on the table, twitching for something to grasp, sliding a little with sweat.

“To answer your question, I don’t think this is going to make you obey me,” Hux murmured, his voice a low counterpoint to the sharp snap of leather of skin. Ren’s back and sides were streaked with red now – it was a beautiful sight, watching his body adjust to the pain. He should have made him take his pants off so that he could access the entire canvas of his back.

_Next time._

“I’m not that foolish. You’ve shown me time and again that you can’t see past your own nose, that you’re too stupid and bloody single-minded to cooperate. You’re a waste of good material, Ren.”

“Then why – ” a hitch in his breath, a desperate gulp – “are you doing this?”

“It’s good for you.”

_And I like it._

_And you’re taking it beautifully._

“You think I haven’t been beaten before?”

“I know you have. But anyone with common sense would have stopped inviting it.”

“You think this is power?” Ren was trying for intimidating but it came out as a whimper, and oh, _that_ was a gratifying sound.

“I know real power. I command legions.” A tad theatrical, but it was true. “This is just discipline.” 

Hux lowered his arm, relishing the burn of muscles in his shoulder. Ren was shaking, but his arms hadn’t given out. He hissed as Hux leaned in and let his fingers brush over Ren’s brutalized skin. Hot to the touch. In the half-light, the redness was subdued, but Hux could feel the rising welts. He’d broken the skin along his right flank, and there was a little blood mixed in with the sheen of sheet.

“But I don’t harbour any illusions that this will make you more obedient.”

“Seems we’re at an impasse,” Ren choked out, muscles twitching under Hux’s soft fingers. 

“This isn’t an ultimatum, Lord Ren,” Hux murmured, watching the body in front of him strain with the effort of keeping itself propped up. “I know how well you do with ultimatums.”

He let the strap clatter onto the table. “You can let go now.”

With a groan he couldn’t contain, Ren slid forward on his arms, dropping his chest to the desk. He was panting, his shoulder blades protruding against his skin, long legs spread. 

It was an extremely satisfying sight.

Hux took stock of himself – panting and a little flushed, but under control. Aroused, but that too was under control. Happier than he could remember being in many months – even if this had been dangerous and self-indulgent.

He reached out for his shirt, laid neatly on the back of the chair, and slipped it on once more, buttoning it up to his collar with crisp efficiency.

“Did you enjoy that?” Ren asked, voice muffled by his arms. He hadn’t moved from the desk, still panting, clearly trying to rally.

Hux didn’t give him the opportunity. He stepped in close to the space between Ren’s legs and pushed forward, pressing Ren’s sweaty body back onto the desk. He was still trembling. Ren hissed as the buttons of Hux’s shirt scraped against his stinging skin.

And then Hux pushed harder.

At the unmistakeable feeling of Hux’s erection against his backside, Ren froze. It was the most visceral reaction Hux had elicited from him all night.

“Yes,” Hux said simply, before pulling back. “I did. You can stand now, if you think you can make it.”

Ren rose abruptly, with more energy than Hux had expected; Hux took an awkward step back, rather because he was forced to than because he chose to.

The expression on Ren’s face was murderous. From the look of surprise and anger on Ren’s flushed face, Hux could tell that this hadn’t been on Ren’s radar. He could pretend that he didn’t mind being beaten, but this – this he minded. This scared him.

_Good._

Hux didn’t let Ren’s glower phase him. His eyes locked onto Ren’s and he stepped back into the man’s physical space. Expecting to feel the grasp of Force fingers on his throat any second, he dropped his hands to Ren’s waistband. Ren’s eyes widened. He seemed suddenly unsure where to put his hands. Hux didn’t wait for Ren to decide; he undid the fastenings and reached inside to cup his cock with an ungentle hand.

Ren hissed through his teeth at the contact, but it was surprise and nothing more.

Warm, soft. Unaffected. Hux gave him a squeeze anyways. Ren stuttered, words dying on his lips.

Hux sneered. “You might be Snoke’s pet, Ren, but this is _my_ ship.”

“ _Our_ ship,” Ren corrected icily.

“Can you even?” Hux asked, enjoying Ren’s real discomfort – _finally._

“I can,” he responded, quickly, peevishly – and oh, yes, Hux had cut him quick him there. Ren realized too late that he’d risen to a childish challenge he’d have done better to ignore, and bristled as he realized it. “But don’t think a few slaps from you are what’s going to do it.”

Why had Ren let him, then, if he hadn’t enjoyed his own debasement?

“Alright,” said Hux, quietly, smiling a smile that was entirely for himself. “Alright. You’ve shown me you don’t care about obeying orders, or being beaten, or _this_ ” – he punctuated his statement with a squeeze to Ren’s groin before withdrawing his hand – “so we are, as you say, at an impasse.”

He stepped back, locking eyes with Ren. The man was red-faced from his recent punishment, barrel chest rolling with deep breaths, with an expression that was equal parts confused and furious.

Hux smiled. He’d lost track of his own bearings too, but at least he had the presence of mind not to show it. He pulled on his coat while Ren glared at him.

“Pass me that,” he said, reaching his hand out for the crop. 

Ren glowered, but after a sullen moment, he picked up the crop and handed it back to Hux with an arm that trembled.

“Make sure you have a medical droid put antiseptic on your back,” Hux ordered, turning to leave. “I don’t want you out of commission for too long.”

“General.”

Hux stopped and turned at the doorway, looking back at Ren, who was leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

“What, Lord Ren?”

Ren was silent for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth turned up, just a little. “It does feel better to lash out, doesn’t it?”

Hux didn’t deign to respond. He swept out of Ren’s quarters without another word, blinking fiercely as he entered the brightly lit corridor. He felt a little shiver of relief when the door slammed shut behind him. In the back of his mind, he hadn’t been sure that Ren wouldn’t strike him through the Force, rank be damned. He’d been afraid, just a little. It had felt good. And as he walked back down the corridor, spine straight and pace crisp, he couldn’t help but feel that perhaps one of them had pushed the other a little further than was wise.


	2. Tremour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danger: risk of slight foray into Woobie Ren territory.

The First Order waged its war with General Hux at the helm. He’d risen through the ranks with vicious determination, and he’d relished every moment of it. He had the vision, cleverness and ruthlessness to bring the Resistance to its knees. 

Most battles, they won.

This one, they were losing.

Hux stood on the bridge, eyes narrowed, stance rigid, watching the remnants of his strike force retreat from Bellac IV. 

It was a temporary defeat, he reminded himself, as he weighed the implications of this particular failure – only temporary.

It had been a calculated risk. Too many unknowns to be certain, too valuable a target not to try. Tactical brilliance and expertise could only take you so far: even with guns, ships, and the best-paid informants in the galaxy, mistakes could still happen.

He wasn’t psychic, after all. 

“I foresaw this,” said Ren, standing to his left. Even behind the mask, there was more than a minimal measure of glee in his voice. “I told you not to rely on their information.”

Hux rolled his eyes. “Thank you for that valuable contribution, Lord Ren.”

Hux was fairly certain he was of too much real value to the First Order for Supreme Leader Snoke to kill him, but he didn’t like to lose, and Ren’s gloating wasn’t doing anything for his mood. He gritted his teeth as the hyperdrive kicked in and the starscape of Bellac IV dissolved in front of them.

Ren’s voice floated through his mind, self-satisfied:

_I’d let you slap me again if I thought it would help, General._

Hux really did feel like slapping him.

In this moment he wanted nothing more than to push through that childish smugness and cause Ren real pain. It wouldn’t do Ren any good, because Ren was spoiled past saving, but it might make Hux feel better.

Since they’d begun this … _arrangement,_ Ren had taken to flitting into Hux’s mind now and then. Never to steal information or persuade – only to mock. Ren had enough scraps of self-preservation to not actively antagonize or interfere with the General, but he wasn’t above using his mystic powers to needle. Hux had gotten used to it, as he’d been forced to get used to everything about Ren. Ren had one master and it certainly wasn’t Hux – he only obeyed Hux when they were alone together. And right now Kylo Ren apparently wasn’t going to let a little thing like military defeat interfere with his plans.

“This might not be a good time to bring it up,” Ren continued, as they walked back along the gangway, “but I need a shuttle.”

“Dare I ask why?” Hux muttered, already contemplating how long it would take his officers to shift gears into Plan B once the fleet regrouped.

“Just because you’ve failed today doesn’t mean I will.”

Hux rounded on him. “If you’d bothered to explain yourself instead of speaking in vague portents, I might have paid some attention to you. As it was, all our information pointed in the other direction, and you knew it. I can’t wage wars on your say-so.”

_We could have done better than this, Ren._

Hux never knew if Ren was listening to his thoughts – right now, he gave no indication that he’d chosen to hear.

“Is that a no on the shuttle, then?”

Hux sighed inwardly. “Have you had that looked at?” he asked, noticing for the first time that the arm of Ren’s robe was singed, as though by blaster fire. Ren had been in the action, and Hux couldn’t help but be chagrined by the fact that Kylo Ren, for all his faults, led troops into battle with at least a moderate amount of skill.

“Is it any concern of yours?”

“Fine,” Hux sighed, pressing a finger to the sudden, blistering headache in his temple, “do what you want. As long as you can find a pilot who’s still alive.”

~~~

Hux was abruptly wakened in the middle of his designated sleep shift. His head still ached – but that was likely the whiskey. An alarm – Snoke was summoning him. He dressed hurriedly, scanning his own mind to try and marshal his best explanations for the day’s losses. He was certain that he was worth more to Snoke alive than dead, but that wasn’t a guarantee that Snoke wouldn’t punish him in some other way. Or perhaps Snoke had foreseen their defeat, just as Ren claimed he had. Snoke was inscrutable, and didn’t always see fit to explain his plans to his General. His mystic oratory was worse than Ren’s, sometimes.

Hux carefully buried that thought, along with the image that had risen, unbidden, of Ren on his knees, shoulder-blades bleeding under Hux’s palms. He wasn’t sure that Supreme Leader Snoke would disapprove of their extra-curricular activities, exactly, but that image in particular was private.

It had brought Hux quite a lot of satisfaction.

Ren was already in the hologram chamber, standing with his broad shoulders slightly hunched. Ren didn’t turn as Hux took his place. Neither of them spared a glance for the other – and why should they? Their sins were upon their own heads, after all. They were not the same.

The two men stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the frigid audience chamber, silently awaiting their master.

They bowed as the towering hologram flickered to life and the misshapen form of the Supreme Leader filled the room with blue, sickly light.

“Were you successful, Lord Ren?” asked the disembodied voice, modulated by the room’s acoustics to boom a little more forcefully than Hux thought was strictly necessary.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Ren replied, rising from his knee. Even with his tone distorted by that miserable mask, his voice was heavy with emotion.

Ren affected to be indifferent to authority outside this room, but inside, when it was just the three of them, it was plain to see how deeply he was tied to Snoke. Something passed between the Force users, something Hux couldn’t see. 

“One of the agents killed herself, but I successfully retrieved the others.”

Hux barely contained an eye-roll. _My pilot retrieved them, you mean. You were just lucky I let you take that shuttle._

“You lost one of them?”

“The interrogations went smoothly. They had valuable information for the Order.”

 _That_ was a non-answer if he’d ever heard one.

As Hux listened to Ren recite to Snoke what he already knew, Hux could sense the other man’s body vibrate with barely-suppressed energy. Hux frowned – he didn’t have a problem with seeing Ren quiver in eager abasement, but he didn’t trust it. Too unpredictable. Hux feared Snoke, and with good reason, but he didn’t worship him.

Hux obeyed Snoke because Snoke was his superior officer and superior officers were to be obeyed. Hux was a true and loyal servant of the First Order, but all his naiveté had been beaten out of him at the Academy. He was always aware that if the status quo changed, if things were different … well. Things might always be different. All good officers understood that. Even Phasma – and Hux trusted his Captain more than he trusted anyone – would be an idiot if she didn’t take her own interests into account. He did not begrudge her that, but he guarded against it – just as Snoke, he knew, was guarding against Hux.

But Ren … it was different with Kylo Ren. This was passion, not protocol. Ren obeyed Snoke because he believed fervently in whatever it was they shared. In Hux, Snoke had the military might of the First Order, but what Snoke had in Ren was devotion: a devotion that was desperate and passionate and trembling.

Hux was fiercely glad to be different from Kylo Ren.

“Have you dealt with the rebel raiders?” asked Snoke, turning his attention to his General at last.

“They will regret their attempt to deceive us,” Hux replied darkly, trying to navigate his own anger at the day’s failure without appearing to be clumsily pawning the loss off. “We’ve already interrupted the shipping lanes in the quadrant. Bellac can’t win the war of attrition. No Resistance aid can come to them.”

“You are worried about your loss today, General.”

“It was a tactical defeat, but one we can afford. We have contingency plans in place. The attempt was risky and we knew it. We can regroup, but their forces have been irreparably damaged.”

Snoke’s hologram regarded him for longer than was comfortable, but he appeared to be appeased by Hux’s assessment.

“Very good.” The wizened face gave him a piercing look, then snapped back to Ren. Hux thought he felt Ren flinch. “Allow me a few words with Lord Ren in private, General.”

Hux was used to being dismissed first; he bowed and left, relieved to be out of that oppressive room. He waited in the antechamber, though; he always waited.

Sometimes, Ren would leave the room gasping and shaking. If Snoke had been particularly displeased, Ren often fared worse. Hux had no how idea how a hologram could inflict pain, but he had no presumption of understanding what went on between them, and no desire to find out.

Ren never seemed to mind that Hux saw him weak and panting after Snoke’s flagellations; it was a certain kind of pride that he took no notice of Hux’s observance. As though suffering at the Supreme Leader’s hand was a badge of honour. Hux supposed that for a Knight of Ren, it must be.

Today, however, when Ren stalked out, his heavy tread made heavier by exertion, he jerked to see Hux still standing there, waiting on him.

He was – embarrassed?

Unsettled, at least.

“What?” Ren snapped, his chest heaving as the door closed firmly behind him. For a moment, Hux felt that pressure again – just a brush of Ren’s unhappy anger, heavy and dark and this time definitely unintentional – against the forefront of his mind, before Ren brought himself visibly back into line.

“Any orders?” Hux asked. “Or are you free?”

~~~

Hux was never sure if Ren interpreted these overtures as requests or demands. He made a show of mocking Hux’s predilections, but he never said no.

“We could have done better than this,” Hux gritted out, taking his anger out on the stretch of pale, almost translucent flesh before him. It felt good to lash out. It felt cleansing. It felt arousing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this angry before,” Ren gasped back, almost reverently. He’d been unfocused and distracted from his meeting with Snoke. Hux had taken that as a personal challenge, and now Ren was right there with him, alive to every point of friction between them.

Ren had long abandoned the pretext that he could remain unaffected during these sessions, and the noises he was making right now were exquisite. Hux was never quite sure what Ren got from this – certainly he never got hard – but he seemed to feed off his General’s anger, taking it into himself, vampire-like, relishing it.

“You don’t like to lose, do you?” Ren asked, voice very near the breaking point.

“I don’t like _waste,_ Ren. This was wasteful.”

Quite aside from the standard-level frustration of Ren’s uncooperativeness, it had been _inefficient._

“You weren’t punished,” Ren whispered, leaning forward with another gasp as the broad, flat side of the strap caught him along the ribs. “You did well, General.”

“We could have done _better._ ” Hux reached down and pulled in a fistful of that heavy black hair, forcing Ren’s head up and back to bare the long pale arch of his neck. This close, he could see the sweat gathering in the curves of his Adam’s apple and clavicles. He wanted, suddenly, to lick it off. He could have if he wanted to – there was nothing stopping him, aside from the vague feeling that perhaps it would open him up too far to Ren’s scrutiny. This was an intimate form of violence, and Hux had to maintain his clarity.

He settled for growling out his breath along Kylo Ren’s neck and chest. “Was this naked subordination on your part, or were you just happy to see me humiliated?”

Ren struggled to choke out an answer with his throat stretched back so far. His cheeks were damp with tears of exertion. “Which would make you feel better?” he croaked. “Maybe it was destiny.”

Hux released his fistful of hair, disgusted, while Ren pulled in a wet gasp. Hux took a step around Ren’s body and knelt down in front of him. Ren snapped his head up to meet the General’s eyes, and Hux locked him in place with a firm grip on his chin. 

“Not the face,” Ren said quickly, as Hux raised the hand holding the strap. Hux paused, raising an eyebrow. He certainly had had no intention of striking Ren across the face with a blunt object, but Ren had never said no to him before, not in here.

“I have a training exercise tomorrow,” Ren explained, in a tone of voice that was difficult to pin down.

Hux could read between the lines: _I don’t want anyone else to see what you do to me._ Shame? Guilt? Perhaps.

If Hux was opening himself up a little too much in these sessions, then Ren was, too.

Hux let the strap drop and slapped him across the mouth, briskly, twice. He kept his other arm tightly locked, so that Ren’s face had nowhere to go but to press into Hux’s palm, but they weren’t hard strikes. Mostly for the form it, because Ren’s cheeks looked so good when they burned.

“I know I can’t beat it out of you,” he said, holding Ren’s face close, “and I know I can’t make you obey me, but I need you to do better.”

_Ren didn’t understand how great this operation could be, how much they could achieve, if only ..._

With one last punishing squeeze, Hux released Ren’s jaw, and Ren slumped back, breathing heavily, eyes wet and burning. Hux was still angry, and aroused, but mostly he was tired. He had a headache, and it had been a long day – and a long night. There was so much to do.

Ren felt the change in atmosphere, tilting his head as Hux sat down in Ren’s chair. Ren remained on the floor, but he shifted his legs beneath him to take the strain off his knees.

“Did you mean that?” he asked, in a voice that was more a croak than anything.

“What?” Hux snapped, trying to sort through both his anger and his arousal.

_What you were … thinking._

“Get out of my head, Ren.”

“You were projecting, don’t blame me.”

Hux ignored him. “Training. Is that why Snoke ordered a change in our coordinates?” he asked, rolling his shoulders to examine the strain in his muscles. “Are we dropping you off?”

“Yes,” Ren replied slowly, testing out the pain of his own body, shifting his own shoulders.

They sat in silence for several moments, each absorbed with managing the feedback from his own body.

“I’ll need authorization,” Ren said, eventually, voice back to normal. Hux frowned, a little annoyed that Ren could rally so quickly – Hux was more exhausted than he’d anticipated.

“I’ll send a pilot.”

“I’ll go myself.”

Hux raised an eyebrow. Ren was a fair pilot but he was usually too lazy to run his own routes.

“I’ll be gone for several months,” Ren explained. He rose to his knees, long limbs stretching slowly, careful not to pull his injured skin more than necessary.

That was welcome news – although Hux realized that he would no longer have these moments to look forward to.

“You seem pleased,” Ren observed, the corner of his mouth twitching. It was hard to tell if he was amused or offended.

“I’m imagining all the things I’ll get done without your interference.”

Ren was surprised into a half-smirk. “You’ll miss me.”

“Yes,” Hux sighed irritably, “I’ll certainly miss your insubordination and your wastefulness and your undermining me at every step.”

Ren tilted his head, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slid forward on his knees into the space between Hux’s legs. Ren didn’t usually touch Hux – he seemed neither to hate nor crave Hux’s hand: if pain was the goal, Hux was incidental. And he wasn’t touching him now, not really, but he was suddenly a hell of a lot closer than he usually chose to be. Hux watched as Ren’s eyes slid down from Hux’s face, to his chest, to his groin, then back up to meet his eyes again.

 _Do you feel better, General?_ It floated through this mind, neither mocking nor solicitous, simply … curious.

Hux rested his elbow on the armrest and leaned his chin on his hand, and regarded the face in front of him. It was an expressive face, but Hux couldn’t read it right now. Ren’s eyes were almost glassy.

Hux knew what his own expression must look like – cold, composed, disdainful.

Hux knew why he was here, what he enjoyed about these rare occasions when Ren submitted to him. But he wasn’t sure that Ren knew why he allowed Hux to do it.

“If I were at all interested in the contents of your demented mind, Ren, I’d ask you what you’re getting out of this.”

Ren gave him a knowing smirk. _With our Supreme Leader, or …?_

“You know what I mean. I can’t tell if I’ve touched your ego and you want to show me you can take it, or if you’re just perverse.”

Ren smiled, just a little. “Well. Our motivations can’t all be as transparent as yours, General.” He leaned forward, and – with mocking delicacy – trailed one index finger along the seam of Hux’s jodhpurs, where the rough fabric stretched tightly over an erection that hadn’t quite subsided.

It wasn’t arousing so much as it was surprising, but Hux still had to tamp down his reaction from showing on his face.

“Get off, Ren,” Hux glowered, shooing him aside.

Ren pulled back and rose as Hux rose, with quite a lot of grace for a man who’d just received a thorough beating.

“You’ll miss me,” Ren repeated.

~~~

His vacation from Kylo Ren was just the blessing Hux had imagined. Plans were laid down and pursued without complaint, meetings went uninterrupted, and there was no nobody to second-guess his judgement. With no need to numb himself against a problem he couldn’t solve, he was even drinking less. It was easier to get down to the business of conquering systems without Ren’s hulking presence in the hallways, or commandeering essential resources for his own mysterious ends.

Hux sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for Ren’s return – not that he had any say in the matter.

Still, he couldn’t deny that he felt a lick of anticipation when he finally received the order to take Supreme Leader’s apprentice back aboard.

Hux acknowledged receipt of the order, and sent for a navigation adjustment.

All too soon, Hux was watching the trajectory of the approaching shuttle on the hangar console. It was an odd time for it, during a designated slow shift, but Hux had adjusted his schedule so that he could meet Ren in the shuttle bay anyways. It was a small side bay, one not frequently used, and he wondered why he’d chosen it. Closer to his quarters, likely enough.

The craft had landed indifferently, with a badly-managed approach. The reason why was answered moments later, when the ramp extended and Ren stumbled down, shaking, looking like he’d been in a blaster fight along the way.

He fell to his knees at the bottom of the ramp. The sound of his heavy breathing echoed through the deserted hangar.

“Lord Ren,” greeted Hux, stepping forward lazily.

“General.” Hux could hear the grimace in his voice that Hux was here to see this.

“Would you like a crane, or are your Force powers going to kick in any minute?”

“Hilarious.”

Hux surveyed him – he wasn’t visibly injured, but then, who could tell beneath all that monastic garb?

“Take the fleet to Entil,” he groaned, rising with effort. “I have seen – Supreme Leader has helped me to see. You’ll need to prepare your troops for aerial sweeps.”

“I won’t do anything prematurely,” Hux replied as they made their way to the lift, Ren half-a-step behind and staggering. “We’ll complete our sweep of this quadrant first. You’ll report to me in the morning. Make that two days from now,” he corrected, as they entered the lift and he could see just how dangerously Ren was teetering.

“You don’t believe what I’ve seen?” Ren snapped. 

“I believe you believe it,” Hux said easily, shrugging his shoulders. He was uninterested in being on the receiving end of yet another diatribe about the power of the Force, but he also didn’t think Ren had the strength for it right now. “I’m not in the habit of explaining myself, but it would be more efficient to complete our sweeps here first, in case you’ve made a mistake.”

Ren hunched inwards, leaning against the lift wall for support. He laughed, sharp and harsh, but didn’t reply. 

“What’s amusing?”

“I’m the most powerful Force user in two generations and I’m hamstrung by an obtuse General.”

The lift sounded off their floor with a soft ding.

“Would the most powerful Force user in two generations like some assistance making his way to his chambers?” replied Hux, watching with no small amount of enjoyment as Ren struggled to straighten himself. “Shall I call you a droid?”

Kylo Ren managed to draw himself up to his full and impressive height, and rounded on Hux. “No.”

“Good. Don’t let my troops see you like that. Get to medical in the morning.”

As Ren passed, he gave Hux a petulant shove with the Force – a blank wall of energy pushed Hux backwards, slamming him against the wall of the lift.

“Pleasure, Lord Ren,” he called out, as he watched the man stalk off.

He wasn’t sure if he pitied Ren or Snoke more for putting up with the other. 

~~~

The next day, as he sat with his evening whiskey, Hux scanned the medical logs and realized that Ren hadn’t checked himself into medical.

On the second day, it became clear that he had no intention of doing so. In retaliation, Hux requested Ren’s presence on the bridge at shift change. He sent the message through a regular work channel, without marking it urgent – he didn’t want Ren to think he was worth more than a cursory notice. When it went ignored, he sent it on a priority channel.

Ren didn’t appear, although Dekko reported that Lord Ren had caused some damage to a targeting console that evening, and could she have a team assigned to fix it before they left the system.

On the third day, Hux summoned him to his quarters directly.

Ren appeared at his door over three hours later, helmeted and robed, but he was unsteady on his feet, as though the effort of crossing over to Hux’s door had been too much. 

“You haven’t been to medbay and I haven’t seen any medical droids come in or out of your quarters,” Hux said, without raising his head from his work. “Take a seat, you’re about to fall over.”

“Such concern,” sniped Ren, but it missed its mark as he collapsed onto the empty chair with what seemed like real relief. “What did you want?”

Hux looked up from his datapad and took in the sight of Lord Ren in his living quarters – not a sight that he’d ever anticipated. His quarters on this ship were comfortable and well-appointed and Hux had never once used them for hosting – that’s what boardrooms were for. He considered the fact that Ren didn’t have to come here – he could have just easily told Hux to fuck off via a message.

“I’m not about to let you fester in your quarters if you’re injured,” Hux replied, forgoing the reminder that it was standard protocol for any trooper to be inspected if they displayed physical distress after a mission. “I’ll be held responsible. Why haven’t you been to medical?”

Ren’s reply was chilly. “I know what I’m doing, Hux.”

“It’s General to you.”

“Very well, _General._ I know what I’m doing. And this” – he gestured weakly to himself – “is part of it.”

Ren didn’t want to argue about this. Interesting.

“If I called a droid now?” he asked, testing.

“I’m not physically injured,” he snapped, like a child pressured into confessing. “It was a training exercise – it’s all in my head. I’m perfectly fine.”

Hux narrowed his eyes, the familiar frustration rising within him. He was angry. Angry that Ren’s power was married to his egotism; angry that whatever Snoke’s plans for him were, they didn’t involve teaching him discipline or control or focus; angry that he seemed to be fated to careen into self-immolation – and that if Hux wasn’t careful, Ren could drag him down too, a victim of his myopic obsession, his refusal to recognize anything that fell beyond the narrow scope of his vision.

“Take off your mask.”

Ren raised his head like it was a lead weight. “I’m not going to indulge you tonight, I – ”

“ _Ren_.”

With extreme reluctance, Ren raised two unsteady arms and pulled his mask off. He blinked owlishly against the light, like a man with a hangover. There were heavy purple shadows under his eyes and his skin appeared waxen and clammy.

He was clearly no stranger to the motivating power of pain.

Hux wondered who had been the last person to touch that skin before him.

It wasn’t a face created to inspire lust or affection – awkward features, overgrown and angular – but Hux had always found something appealing in the sensitive curve of his lip. There was potential there. And Hux had always had an eye for potential.

“Alright,” Hux said, making his decision, “get up.”

Ren gave him an impatient look. “General, I don’t know what you’re – ” 

“Ren, I don’t know if you were ever taught protocol around interrupting a superior officer, but the general rule is don’t. Get up and don’t argue.”

Ren rolled his eyes, but he was tired, unfocused. He was looking inwards, concentrating on his own pain, and he obeyed Hux now with no more than an irritated sigh. His body creaked upwards, a slow unfolding.

“In here, come on.”

Hux led them into his bedroom. The lights turned on automatically, but Hux dialled them back to half-strength.

“Sit down,” he ordered, gesturing to the bed and turning to shed his coat. He grabbed a glass from the sideboard and poured two fingers of whiskey into it. When he turned back, Ren hadn’t moved, an expression of uncertainty on his face.

“Did that sound like a request to you?”

Despite his exhaustion, Ren grinned. “Were you just waiting around for me to come back so you could bully me again?”

“Drink that,” Hux said, handing him the glass, and watched he sat down gingerly on the bed, stiff in the torso. Ren winced when the alcohol hit his tongue – presumably the Knights of Ren weren’t encouraged a build a tolerance – but he downed it obediently.

“Good,” Hux said, taking the glass from him. “Robe.”

“I told you, I don’t – ”

“I know. We’re not. Robe.”

Ren struggled to remove the cumbersome garment while sitting. Hux didn’t help him; he just watched, sipping his own whiskey, as Ren’s tired limbs shrugged out of bulky fabric. Ren cast it aside and paused; he glanced at Hux, then began to remove his boots.

When he was at last stripped of his outer layers, Hux approached the bed, a pair of cuffs in one hand.

“Hands out,” he said, in a perfectly neutral tone.

Ren frowned, and Hux wondered if this was the moment Ren said no, but after a second’s indecision he capitulated. Hux slipped the light leather cuffs around his wrists, snugging them firmly but not so tight as to pinch.

“You know I could break out of these in seconds,” Ren observed, testing their strength.

“I know.” He looked Ren in the eye. “They’re not meant to hold you. They’re just a reminder. Arms up.”

Ren did so, and Hux pressed Ren’s hands back against the wall, attaching the cuffs firmly to one of the secure divots above the head of the bed.

Ren winced as the motion extended his torso, heightening Hux’s suspicions that perhaps not all of his injuries were in his head.

“Move down the bed a little,” Hux suggested, as Ren squirmed against the awkward angle and the new strain on his shoulders. “None of that,” he said more sharply, as Ren appeared to tug against the divot.

Ren scowled at the admonishment, as if to say I wasn’t, and Hux was satisfied.

As Ren adjusted, Hux touched a panel on the bedside table. A hidden compartment opened up from the side, and out of it he brought a sturdy knife, nondescript but recently sharpened.

Kylo frowned up at him, more sulky than apprehensive, and Hux almost laughed.

Hux knelt on the bed at Ren’s side. He reached out and pulled the fabric of Ren’s shirt tight in one hand, slicing it neatly down the centre with the knife to reveal the pale skin of Ren’s chest and stomach.

Ren was nonplussed. “Was that necessary?”

Hux ignored him, setting the knife aside. He began to run his hands over the muscles and bones to check for a real injury. Ren tensed pre-emptively, but Hux didn’t let his fingers linger or tease. He went about his task clinically, applying measured pressure and taking note of Ren’s reactions.

Ren hadn’t been entirely truthful. There was some deep bruising along one side of his chest and torso, the kind of marks you’d expect for being a fraction of a second too slow while sparring, for example. Ren flinched slightly at the pressure, but other than that, he seemed uninjured. There were no cuts or scrapes, and nothing was broken that Hux could make out, though his skin was a little cold and clammy, as though he wasn’t quite well.

All in his mind, then.

“You could have asked me to take it off,” sighed Ren. His eyes had fallen to half-mast despite himself. He’d shifted down the bed into a half-recline, trying to adjust to his awkward position.

“Because you always do what I ask,” Hux murmured absently, pushing the halves of Ren’s shirt off his chest completely, out of the way.

“Well, maybe if you asked _nicely_ ,” Ren said, rolling his shoulders to iron out any discomfort.

“Hmm.” And that was all the warning Ren got before Hux leaned down and took his nipple in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write fic suuuuuuuuuuper slowly, y'all, so while I promise you that this fic will finish (AND THE PORN IS COMING) it'll take me a little while to post the next chapter.
> 
> Slow loris over here.


	3. Crack

“Fuck!”

Ren’s body bucked up against Hux in a pure animal reaction.

Hux paid him no mind. With his arms strapped above his head, Ren didn’t have the leverage to dislodge him unless he really put his back into it, and Hux had every intention of taking advantage of this.

Hux laved the pert flesh of Ren’s nipple with his tongue, bringing the weight of his body down onto Ren’s lap as he did so. Ren’s rebellious hips jerked up against his torso, but Hux doubled down with a firm hand on his chest, locking himself between Ren’s thighs.

“Shit!” Ren groaned, trying and failing to master his body’s reactions.

Hux ignored him. It had been a while since he’d done this, and he was planning on taking his time. He relaxed into the task in front of him, teased and pulled at Ren’s nipple with his lips and tongue, listening to Ren fall to pieces. The soft, broken sounds that had taken thirty lashes to elicit with a crop were now falling from Ren’s lips freely. Hux let his fingernails skate upwards to Ren’s other nipple, brushing his pectoral but deliberately avoiding the sensitive nub.

“General,” gasped Ren, finally managing to piece his words together, “what the hell are you doing?”

He sounded almost stunned, voice slurred with surprise and pleasure.

Hux nearly grinned. Ren was more sensitive than he’d hoped. Slowly, mouth still working lazily against Ren’s chest, he brought Ren’s other nipple between the point of his thumb and index finger. He tweaked the bud, letting his nail glide over the tip.

Ren made a noise in his throat and jerked violently. Hux frowned, though he didn’t let up what he was doing. A few more jerks like that and Ren would rip the shackles right off the wall.

Hux wet the pad of his thumb, and did it again.

Ren’s back arched and he groaned, but this time he behaved himself; his arms stayed where they were, fists coiling in the empty air, the muscles of his great chest straining.

“General, don’t – ”

Hux ceased his ministrations, raising his head to stare Ren in the eye. Ren’s face was flushed, gasping mouth red, heavy hair falling into his eyes. He had no ability to conceal the expression of complete and utter incomprehension on his face.

“Was that ‘don’t’ as in stop?” Hux demanded.

Ren blinked furiously, impressive chest heaving beneath Hux’s hands. Those black eyes were angry, sure this was some trick, but his jaw hung slack. Confusion and desire warred in his expression; he seemed unable to describe what he wanted in words.

He was completely lost. He had been comfortable mocking Hux’s arousal as long as he was immune to his own. He hadn’t foreseen this.

But Hux had.

Hux had realized he’d been going about this all wrong. Pain wouldn’t get through to Kylo Ren. Hux couldn’t hurt him the way Snoke did. But this …

“ _Do_ you want me to stop?” Hux repeated, running curious fingers over the flush that had spread across his collarbone and throat.

Unbidden, uncontrolled, scraps gleaned from a cacophonous rush, Ren’s thoughts touched his own:

_\- no please no please don’t stop this is -_

Hux could read his desperation, but he wanted to push him just a little further.

“Yes? Or no?”

Anger in Ren’s eyes when he realized that Hux was trying to make him say it out loud. Hux didn’t need the Force to know what Ren was thinking – he didn’t want to say no and his pride wouldn’t let him say yes.

“What is this?” Ren managed instead, through panting breaths.

Hux lowered his head, smiling drily. Typical Ren, resisting at every turn.

“You mean you’ve never done this before?” Hux asked, deliberately provocative, digging his nails into the suspicion.

“That’s _not_ what I meant,” Ren snapped, too quickly. “What are _you_ doing?”

It was an easy opening, but Hux wasn’t interested in leaning on that insecurity any further. Humiliating Ren wouldn’t make him any more pliable, and Hux wanted him pliable.

“I can answer your stupid questions or I can keep doing what I’m doing,” Hux said, watching Ren’s dusky nipple tighten under his breath, “but I can’t do both.”

Ren didn’t answer, but he bit his lip, and the look in his eyes was answer enough for Hux.

“Stay still, then,” Hux ordered, with a meaningful look at the delicate shackles. And then, letting his voice soften a little, just to see what would happen, “Be good for me.”

He pursed his lips and wetly kissed the nipple he’d been ignoring, and Ren melted.

Hux licked and suckled, pace lazy, letting the movements of Ren’s barrel chest be his barometer.

Ren’s body was warm, and he tasted clean. He’d clearly dragged his injured carcass into a shower at some point – he still tasted vaguely antiseptic, like soap and chemicals. But beneath that, there were hints of organic scent: the wool of his tunic, his sweat, his skin. No matter how he tried to hide himself beneath steel and plastic and the mythos of the Force, he smelled human.

There was a brush against Hux’s mind, shaking fingers attempting to turn a page. Ren in his head, desperately parsing, trying to figure out what Hux was doing, what Hux wanted from him, as he tried and failed to keep his breathing steady.

“I’m indulging myself,” Hux explained aloud, irritably pulling off Ren’s chest.

“Is – this a test?” Ren choked out, refusing to relax.

Hux almost laughed. “Don’t be an idiot, Ren.”

A pissy frown broke through his glazed expression, and it was so typically Kylo Ren that Hux had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in response.

Ren wasn’t making this easy for either of them; Hux didn’t know why he’d expected anything else.

“Everything’s a test, Lord Ren,” he repeated, a little more carefully, “but I think you can put that aside for the moment. You’ve indulged me before – you can do it again.”

With a deliberate motion, Hux shifted his lower torso. It drew out a shuddering breath from Ren as Hux pressed himself firmly against the erection that had been slowly growing against his stomach.

Hux _had_ wondered, in his idle moments. One heard stories about the Knights … But the swelling warmth of Ren’s cock between their bodies put that worry to rest. He’d always pegged Ren as either a masochist or a monk. Apparently he’d been wrong about both.

“Is this indulgence for your sake, or for mine?” Ren hissed, unwilling to give in to whatever power play he thought Hux was pulling.

 _Embarrassed_. The miserable child was _embarrassed._

Hux really did roll his eyes this time. “I’ll leave that for you to determine. Now relax, Ren. That’s an order.”

Ren sucked in a shaking breath, gritting his teeth as though Hux was asking him to submit to a particularly unpleasant task. The poor child. This deviation had taken him too far down a path he hadn’t foreseen, indulgences whose costs he couldn’t predict.

_He really did look beautiful like this._

Hux didn’t say it out loud, as surprised by the observation as Ren might have been to hear it. Instead, he sat up to strip himself of the rest of his uniform. Jacket, shirt, boots and belt were all discarded, though he only undid his breeches far enough to loosen them over his groin.

If he’d been uncertain of Ren’s enthusiasm earlier, he couldn’t now miss the plain hunger on the other man’s face as he looked up at the General, unable to touch.

“Good,” murmured Hux, reaching out to rub a small circle into Ren’s hip. “That’s better. You’re doing fine.”

Ren bit his lip; this was the first time Hux’s hands had strayed below his chest.

Hux slowed his movements, savouring Ren’s reactions instead of rushing past them. He undid the remains of Ren’s clothing, pulling away the last few layers until Ren was stretched out nude before him. Ren was alive under his fingertips, charmingly responsive.

His chest and shoulders were flushed, but that was nothing compared to the swollen pinkness of his nipples. The nubs had been darkened by Hux’s worrying, and now stood out against the pale skin of his chest. That broad frame tapered in to a slender waist, and below that, his prominent cock was pink and wet, curved up and resting heavily on his stomach. With his long arms pulled back and shackled behind his head, he looked deceptively vulnerable.

Hux took a moment to stare – and Ren stared back, with naked anticipation and a little bit of trepidation. Hux knew better than to tease him – he could feel very real anger lurking beneath Ren’s surface, looking for some excuse to lash out.

“Are you alright?” Hux asked, keeping his tone tight, his question purposely broad.

Ren jerked his chin, as close to an affirmative as Hux supposed he was going to get.

Well. Hux had every intention of going slow.

“How are your arms?” he asked, quietly observing that Ren was no longer squirming under Hux’s scrutiny.

Ren didn’t reply, but he offered up a sensation. It skated into Hux’s mind as seamlessly as a soundwave would have: tension in the muscles of his arms, the ache of the angle only just beginning to make itself felt, the lingering pain from the bruising down the one side of his chest, but underneath that, Ren’s knowledge of his own strength. This was nothing – he had withstood pressures far worse than this. And with that understanding, a promise – he wouldn’t lower them until Hux told him to.

“Good.”

Hux reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a slender glass vial from the drawer, then settled himself back between Ren’s legs. He pushed them further apart, giving himself some space to work. Ren didn’t appear to love the position – he was so _open_ in front of him – but he was clearly anticipating what came next.

After a moment’s temptation, Hux chose to avoid Ren’s cock for the time being. He shifted his body a little lower, and Ren whined as Hux’s hands trailed from his hips down his thighs, clearly disagreeing with that strategy.

“Don’t whine, you’re not a child.”

“You like chastising me, though, so I hardly – shit, _Hux_!”

It was a cry of sheer shock, and Hux had to dig his nails into Ren’s thighs to keep them from closing on him.

“Did I say you could call me that?” he murmured, before giving Ren’s rim another broad lick.

The words of protest died on Ren’s tongue, swallowed up by another moan.

“Glad to know there’s a way of shutting you up.”

“I don’t know that this would work in public,” Ren gasped, forcing his legs to stay open as Hux began licking him in earnest. His muscular thighs were trembling.

Hux had always liked this part, and he was pleased that Ren seemed too far out of his depth to consider mocking him for it. Hux worked him open with his tongue, nosing the soft skin of his balls as he did so, but completely ignoring his cock. Ren fluttered beneath him, unfamiliar with the sensation, simultaneously trying to resist and relax.

Pulling back, Hux surveyed the body in front of him. Ren was gasping and sweaty, clearly coming undone. Hux himself was hardly unaffected, but was planning on savouring the mounting anticipation instead of rushing through it. Unlike Ren, he was no stranger to delayed gratification.

Hux shifted his weight to one arm, and leaned up to lick one of Ren’s neglected nipples. With care, Hux closed his teeth over the abused nub. Ren groaned, full-throated. The sound went right to Hux’s groin.

“You’re sensitive,” Hux murmured, unable to keep the words to himself.

A flash of embarrassment and resentment at that, which wasn’t what Hux wanted. He wanted Ren submissive in his hands, not with his hackles up.

“Calm down, calm down,” he sighed, pulling back up, “I wasn’t mocking you.”

Hux tipped some of the oil onto his fingers, and inserted one slowly. That, at least, seemed to be not unexpected – Ren seemed to have some rudimentary understanding of how this part went – and Ren groaned from the reprieve as Hux’s fingers slowly entered him.

Ren was tense, and therefore tight, and Hux found himself this close to uttering shushing noises. Instead, he stroked Ren’s hip soothingly as he encouraged the man’s body to open for him.

He needn’t have worried – Ren was, in this as in all things, quick to feel and quick to react.

“Does this hurt?” Hux asked, for form’s sake, as he began to twist his fingers, but Ren was clearly lit with pleasure.

“No, fine,” Ren gasped. “I’m fine, General, _please_ ,” he burst out. “Please, just – ” He bit off his own sentence, too embarrassed or too proud to beg.

Hux paid him no heed, and began to thrust in and out carefully with his fingers, stretching the resisting muscle, finding his way in. Ren, however, was not so patient: he moaned and shimmied helplessly, unwilling to let his arms down and unwilling to beg and unwilling to just let go and trust Hux.

_\- please, I need – just – something, I don’t – I can’t –_

“Do you need something, Lord Ren?” Hux asked mildly.

“I hate you,” Ren growled, and then he moaned when Hux curled his fingers to brush against that most sensitive spot inside him.

Hux couldn’t help but grin – Ren’s head had slumped back against the headboard, sweat on his brow, teeth biting into that full bottom lip. His cock was drooling on his stomach, twitching and clearly aching to be touched. Hux resisted the temptation, and began to pump harder with his hand, lazily rubbing Ren’s nipple with the other.

“General,” Ren choked out, “I can’t … I’m going to …”

“That’s fine,” Hux soothed, his own eyes half-lidded, drinking in the sight of Ren desperate and close to the edge. He hadn’t been able to touch Ren to the quick through violence, but a few tender touches and the man was coming apart on his fingers. “Go on.”

Ren frowned, distracted and confused. “Don’t you want …?”

“In good time. Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” Hux took hold of Ren’s weeping dick. It was thick and hot to the touch and felt as good as it looked. “Go on – I want to see you.” Crooking his fingers inside of Ren, Hux began to jerk him mercilessly with his other hand.

The onslaught from both hands was too much. Ren gave a shout, Hux’s calloused hands firm and punishing on his cock, and came.

It was long and slow and Ren made a sound like something was breaking inside of him. Hux continued to jerk him off with an unforgiving hand, stripping the last sensations from him as he gasped for air.

The sight of Ren pinned down beneath him, trapped between Hux’s body and the shackles they both knew he had the strength to break, was breath-taking.

Hux felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

Quite independent of his own arousal, he could feel the aftershocks of Ren’s orgasm leaking through his consciousness. They were weak and pale, mere ripples at the edges of his mind, but they felt foreign and strange and he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation of being able to feel the ghosts of what Ren was feeling. It was too invasive, a weakness he hadn’t invited.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Hux managed, surprised to hear that his voice had gone tight, but Ren didn’t respond – perhaps hadn’t even heard.

 _Are you in here?_ Hux demanded, concentrating, but it was clear that Ren was caught up in his own brain, and hadn’t the ability to be interfering with Hux’s. His guard had been let down, and it was clear he’d had no control over what he’d just done.

Hux looked up at Ren, withdrawing his fingers from Ren’s body and smoothing the pad of his thumb over Ren’s trembling hole. His own fingers were trembling – he kept that observation to himself.

Force users – they should come with warning labels.

But he kept his other hand on Ren’s dick, still quivering minutely, and ran careful fingers over him, nursing him through the final shocks of sensation.

From somewhere above him, Ren made a weak noise, trying to come back to himself.

 _Let me take these off_ , he pleaded, sending Hux a sensation of his shoulders uncomfortably tensed and his wrists sore. Underneath, there was an awkward knot of desires, thoughts. Ren knew he could break out of them them if he really wanted to, only Hux had told him not to – frustration that he had to be patient and passive – and beneath that, a sense of deflected reciprocity, and a greedy desire to touch and taste that he was currently being denied.

“Absolutely not,” said Hux, wondering if Ren knew what he’d just shown him. “Don’t relax. We’re not done yet.”

 _Oh, you’re still mad at me?_ The question was equal parts amused and serious as Ren slowly came back to himself.

“For the record, Ren,” said Hux, wiping Ren’s cum off his fingers with the tattered remains of Ren’s shirt, “I’m usually mad at you – you don’t need to ask.”

“I know,” Ren said aloud, voice quivering as Hux began to rub his entrance again. “I like your anger. It’s useful.”

“Useful?”

“Anger draws me closer to the dark. Yours strengthens my own.”

“I didn’t think you needed any help in that area,” murmured Hux, feeling how loose and relaxed Ren had become around his fingers after his orgasm. “You usually seem to have enough of it to go around.”

“Passion is important,” Ren breathed. “I like yours. It’s grounding.”

Hux frowned. That was the opposite of what passion was: passion was distracting, wasteful, undesirable, but never grounding, never reliable.

That explained a lot about the man.

Aloud, however, he said: “Good. I hope you’re ready for it.”

The look Ren gave him was one of pure hunger. Ren’s eyes tracked his every move as Hux pulled his fingers away from Ren’s body and finally – finally – undid his zip and let his cock loose. He knew the value of self-control, but he couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. He gave himself a couple firm strokes, shivering in anticipation, then quickly stripped himself of his jodhpurs and briefs.

Ren – still shaky and blowsy from his orgasm – looked at him with something like desperation. Hux found himself similarly affected; his own fingers were shaking as he lined himself up.

Ren let out a gasp – soft, soft – as Hux let the tip of cock press up against his hole.

The pucker was hot and wet, stretched and ready to take Hux in.

Hux gathered his strength and hoisted Ren’s trembling legs up over his shoulders. The weight of him was almost too much, but it was worth it for the moment when Ren got with the program and shifted his hips, pressing his body against Hux’s, and then Hux was sliding in, in, in, past the ring of muscle to end up fully sheathed in Kylo Ren.

Hux had enough self-control to prevent himself from groaning like Ren did, but it was a near thing.

Hux paused for a moment, balls deep in that heat, telling himself it was just so that Ren could adjust, certainly not so he could catch his own breath. Ren’s head was thrown back, eyes half-lidded and flickering against the sensation. His chest was heaving as his body struggled against the intrusion, but his hips bore down beneath Hux’s, searching for something, for more.

“Almost,” Hux whispered, his voice giving out on him. He ran a hand along Ren’s calf, tracing the heavy muscle up to the delicate bone of his ankle, and then began to move.

“Oh –” Ren’s eyes fell shut and his body shuddered.

Hux felt an answering echo in his own body. He supposed he should go slow – had thought he would go slow – had thought he would make Ren beg and work for this, like the punishment it was – but Ren was hot around his cock and his legs were warm against Hux’s chest and the angle was perfect and before Hux really knew what he was doing he was pumping hard into that dark heat, chasing the tension and the anger that he’d been carrying inside him for so long.

He didn’t have to stop to ask Ren how he was doing – whether wittingly or not, Ren was keeping up a litany of sensation in his mind.

_… shit, shit Hux, this is – I didn’t know …  I didn’t…_

Hux suppressed his grin, but he was having a hard time keeping control of his expression. He was panting now, sweat gathering at his temple, hair in his face.

It had been so long, and Ren felt so good underneath him.

Every muscle in his body seemed to be gearing towards release, and the gathering pressure in his chest and in his cock wouldn’t let him slow down. He felt his face flush, felt his fingers tighten on the meat of Ren’s thighs. Whatever this had been about before, Hux realized he’d lost the thread of it. Buried in Ren’s body, with those soft weeping sounds falling from Ren’s lips, Hux couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything towards the man that wasn’t pure arousal.

“General,” Ren growled, “I need – something …”

“Greedy. My hands are busy,” Hux panted, tightening his grip on Ren’s thighs for emphasis.

“Hux, dammit, just – ” Ren bit his lip, unable to ask aloud, but he sent an image of Hux’s fingers closing over his cock, just as he had a few moments ago. It was more sensation than image, and Hux reeled, slightly embarrassed by the tenderness that underpinned the memory. Ren had perhaps given up more than he’d meant to: for a moment, Hux’s mind was suffused with the image of his own hand, etched in delicate, careful lines, closing over Ren’s cock with more gentleness than Hux remembered using. Generous pulls, a release Ren hadn’t dared to ask for, but Hux had given it to him, had known he’d needed it before Ren had known to ask for it.

“Out loud, Ren,” Hux insisted, trying to keep himself under control, resisting the impulse to follow the suggestion of Ren’s memory. “I want to hear you ask me out loud. Beg for it.”

Ren hissed, eyes wet with sweat or tears, Hux couldn’t tell. His cock was thick on his stomach, crying out for attention.

Hux was so close already – he could feel his orgasm gathering at the base of his spine, in the bottom of his stomach, and Ren was threatening to push him over before he was ready. He closed his eyes, stifling a moan as Ren clenched down on him. His strong thighs were heavy against Hux’s chest and shoulders, and they were shivering under Hux’s grip.

He could feel Ren’s arousal building in his body, could feel his muscles burning and sore, could feel that it wasn’t enough – wasn’t quite what he needed – and could feel how utterly unable he was to ask for the damn thing he wanted.

“Insufferable,” Hux growled, resting his sweaty temple against Ren’s leg, shoving himself deeper into Ren’s body. “Arrogant. Insubordinate. _Ask me nicely_.”

“I could make you,” Ren gasped, scarcely believing it himself.

“You don’t want to make me. Where would that leave you? Force-user surrounded by puppets, no one to keep you in line. I’m not scared of you.” _And you need someone to keep you in line, don’t you?_

“Hux …” Another flash, and this time the images from Ren’s mind felt shameful and exposed: he could break the shackles at any time, they both knew it, but he hadn’t, he _wasn’t_ , he was being _good_ , he was always so _good_ for Hux, submitted without complaint, and Hux was always fair, and this wasn’t _fair_ , it wasn’t – and he hadn’t known he needed it, but he _did_ – 

Hux gasped and stilled, too close to the edge to withstand Ren’s desperation. He took a shaking breath to steady himself, then another, and then began thrusting again, slower, deeper, dragging each thrust out as though it was going to be their last.

“Just ask me nicely,” Hux gritted, closing his eyes.

“Please-will-you-touch-me?” Ren gasped as he fell to pieces on Hux’s cock.

Hux wasted no time. They both groaned unhappily as he pulled out, but he pushed Ren’s legs off his shoulders and Ren let them fall apart to give Hux the room he needed.

Leaning forward, Hux rested his weight on one arm and pressed his body flush against Ren’s belly, pushing back inside. Ren’s cock was hot between their bodies, sticky with cum. Ren hissed, still sensitive. Hux slipped his fingers around him gently, spreading the still-warm cum around the crown to slick his way. Then he began to thrust, let his hand drag Ren’s cock in time with his hips, and Ren made a noise like a dying man.

“That’s it,” murmured Hux, nipping at the flushed collarbones, wondering how long he could hold himself up like this on one arm. He was fading fast. Ren was falling apart beneath him and Hux felt like he could conquer the entire galaxy as long as Ren would just let him have this, and he was so close, so close …

_– so close –_

“Hux …”

“I didn’t … give you permission …” It was peevish and petty and Hux didn’t have the energy to finish the sentence.

“You’re _inside_ me, I can call you whatever I – ”

Hux kissed him, just to shut him up.

It was clumsy and wet – their attentions were focused elsewhere, Hux thrusting into Ren and Ren’s cock shivering and straining in Hux’s hand – but the drag of lips and teeth was perfect, perfect. Hux hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to bite down on that plush bottom lip until he did, and drew out a low moan from Ren.

Ren’s cheeks were wet and his arms were shaking and he gave himself up to the kiss without a thought, sliding into Hux’s mouth like it was second nature. “Hux,” he whispered against Hux’s lips, and then again, louder: “Hux!”

And that was all the warning he got before Ren’s second orgasm washed over them both.

It was too soon, too soon, but Hux came as well, helplessly carried in the undertow. Ren’s emotions and sensations flooded his mind, and though Hux wanted to resist, he was powerless against it.

It was nothing like having Ren’s scalpel-sharp presence in his head: this was immediate and unfettered, utterly directionless, and Ren had no more control over it than Hux did.

Hux felt himself spend inside Ren’s body like it had been his idea, felt Ren come between their bellies, warm cum spurting over Hux’s fingers, felt Ren’s lips go lax against his and felt Ren’s legs seize around his hips, felt the utter tragedy of Ren’s surprise – _you didn’t know, did you? didn’t know you were capable of this, no place inside you for it, didn’t know this was meant for you_ – until there was nothing left to feel.

His body broke apart and his mind undid itself and the tendrils of his nervous system spiralled out into the infinite distance of space and dissolved into the ether and there was nothing left but peace – order – balance – control – the chaos of their hearts – stillness, and they were breathing – _he_ was breathing – clean, pure, powerful, _alive_.

 

~~~

 

“Fuck,” Hux said, some time later. His throat was hoarse, though he couldn’t remember having shouted. He felt like he’d been scooped out, hollowed, and then poured back into himself.

 _That’s what you get_ , a small corner of his brain taunted, _for fucking a Force-user_.

He couldn't tell if it was his own voice, or Ren's.

At the edges of his consciousness, he felt Ren’s mind pulling at him like the tide. Nothing was passing between them, no words or sensations or emotions, but Ren was unmistakeably there, indecipherable, impossible to ignore.

Hux thought about kicking him out of his head, but it was just as likely that Ren didn’t realize what he was doing. Hux had never known Ren to lose his handle on his mental powers like that, to give up so much so freely, but he seemed to have let his barriers drop completely and this was the consequence.

Idly, Hux grew into the awareness that Ren’s chest had slowed beneath his own, his breathing evened. Hux could hear his heartbeat beneath his ear, powerful.

Hux pulled out with an exhausted groan and rolled over beside Ren. His hand was still splayed on Ren’s abdomen, cum cooling on his fingers, but when he tried to move it he realized Ren’s hands were gripping his wrist tight. At some point, Ren must have freed his wrists from the cuffs using the Force. Hux tilted his head up; sure enough, there was a hole in Hux’s wall where the divot had been.

“Ren,” Hux muttered, tugging gently, “let me go.”

Ren let go of Hux’s wrist abruptly, perhaps unaware he’d been gripping so tightly.

Hux rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The light fixtures had shattered. In their place, at some point, the backup lighting system had clicked on. The low blue light illuminated the broken remains of the whiskey decanter on Hux’s bureau. There was liquid dripping steadily onto the floor. The mirror by the dresser was bifurcated by a deep crack.

“Did you do that?” Hux asked mildly.

There was a muffled noise of confusion beside him. Ren was staring at the ceiling too, apparently uninterested in meeting Hux’s eyes.

“Sorry,” croaked Ren, the _don’t you dare make fun of me for this_ clearly implied by the sulky timbre of his voice.

A few beats of silence, then: “I don’t usually lose control like that. Of the Force.”

“A night of firsts, then.”

This time Ren did turn his head, and the look that Ren gave him was hateful.

Hux masked his grin, and hauled his body up so he could examine Ren properly.

The first adjective that sprang to mind was _well-fucked_. His dark nest of hair was sticking up in every direction, plastered to his face with sweat. Hux hadn’t been pernicious about marking him, but there were scratches and bite marks along his chest and torso. He was covered in his own cum. And though Ren was trying his best to glare at Hux, he wasn’t doing a great job of it: he looked about as dazed and tired as Hux felt.

He looked vulnerable, dark eyes too open and expressive, and Hux realized that there might be a price to pay for looking at Ren’s unmasked face for too long.

“It can come out of your equipment budget,” Hux said eventually, before pushing himself off the bed. His limbs felt deliciously heavy, though his insides were still unsettled from whatever Ren had done to him. Nude and completely unselfconscious, Hux crossed the room to recover his pad, and put in a service droid requisition. He then reviewed his messages, mostly out of habit, but he also wanted to make sure that Ren’s … _disruption_ hadn’t made its way beyond Hux’s cabin.

Hux’s perfunctory tasks and the imposition of some physical distance between them seemed to do its job: slowly, Hux felt Ren’s presence recede from the edges of his mind.

Leaving Ren looking oversized and a little lost on his bed, Hux went into the refresher. Thankfully, nothing in this room had been damaged. Hux wondered how far Ren’s temper tantrums could reach. He washed his hands, arms and thighs of sweat and dried semen, then took a warm wet cloth to his face.

He toyed with the idea of a shower, but decided against it. It wouldn’t do to leave Ren alone for too long. He had never been particularly fussed about aftercare with Ren – the soldier could take care of himself – but then, Hux had never gotten a rise like this out of him before. Probably better, all things considered, to tread cautiously. Instead, he pulled a pair of light sleeping pants from the shelf, and put them on, then left the refresher.

“Here,” said Hux, tossing a clean cloth at Ren. It landed on his chest. “Clean yourself up.”

Ren jerked in surprise; he’d clearly been lost in his own mind, or in the aftershocks of his own sensations. He struggled to sit upright, but he did as Hux said. While Ren was wiping himself off, Hux grabbed the few pieces of their clothing that hadn’t been kicked to the floor and shoved them off the bed.

With a soft whoosh, two droids entered through the utility hatch. The service droid rolled up to Hux promptly for instructions. “Glass, bureau, clothes,” Hux ordered, waving it to work.

“You think you’re clever, do you, General?” muttered Ren, staring at the second droid, which was wheeling its way towards him on the bed.

“Post-op medical examinations are standard.”

“There’s no need to be this conscientious. I told you it was all in my head.”

“If my stormtroopers have to submit to them, then so do you. Just sit still and let it work.”

Ren looked for a moment like he wanted to argue, but Hux raised an eyebrow, and Ren fell silent. Hux counted that as a minor victory – if nothing else, at least Ren could learn to be obedient. Pulling a sheet over his hips, Ren sat up straight and submitted to the cursory examination without further protest, if not good grace.

“You never worry about medical treatment when you’re the one hitting me,” Ren observed, extending his arm so the droid could inject him with a syringe.

“I know how to hit you properly,” Hux reminded him, rifling through his dresser drawer. “Who knows what you get up to on your own. Now, I would offer you whiskey, but someone smashed my decanter.” He drew out his flask from the drawer and took a long draw, then tossed it to Ren. Ren caught it one-handed; the droid was touching up his other wrist with antiseptic.

“That’s all,” Hux said, when the droid indicated it had completed its task.

“I have administered to Lord Ren a mild sedative and general anaesthetic,” the little droid whirred. “It is not recommended that he ingest alcohol at this time.”

“Understood. Get out.” Hux turned to Ren. “Go on.” Ren rolled his eyes, but took a long drain from the flask anyways. He winced at the burn, but swallowed obediently.

He handed the flask back. Then, to Hux’s complete lack of surprise, he flopped back on Hux’s bed. It was an intentionally provocative gesture, or at least it would have been, if his thick dark lashes hadn’t immediately fluttered closed.

 _Medical attention unnecessary. I told you it was all in my head_ , he murmured against the inside of Hux’s skull.

Hux wasn’t sure what Ren was driving at, or which particular one of his many insecurities had the upper hand at the moment, but he was too tired for any more amateur introspection tonight.

“Yes, well, that’s what the alcohol’s for.”

“Do you want me out?” Ren demanded. He was trying to build his walls back up with defensiveness, and for that, Hux was grateful. As long as Ren was obsessing over his weaknesses, Hux could keep his own hidden.

“No,” said Hux, sitting down on the side of the bed, “I want you where I can keep an eye on you. Move over.”

Ren, surprised by the request and tangled in the sheets and clearly awkward about his nakedness, did his best.

Hux, whose Academy training had left him no stranger to the realities of sharing a bed with another soldier, rolled his eyes. “Do I have to teach you how to share a bed like a normal human being?”

More irritated than chastised, Ren straightened out his limbs.

“Better, General?”

Hux had every intention of snapping something sarcastic back at him, but now that he was close to Ren’s body once again, he could feel the exhaustion radiating off Ren in waves – and Hux realized that he, too, was bone-deep tired. It had been a long day.

“Lights,” Hux commanded instead, and the backup lighting faded.

Laying his head down, he adjusted his body to fit the space that Ren had left for him. He felt his entire body relax into the bedding, despite the faint, lingering smells of sweat and semen that permeated the cloth. It wasn’t bad, just organic and – by this point in Hux’s life – unfamiliar. He wasn’t sure whose relaxation he was feeling, his or Ren’s, but maybe it didn’t matter.

For a few moments, there was silence, then:

“Hux,” Hux corrected aloud, burying his face into his pillow.

“Mm?”

“It can be Hux.” _When it’s just you and me._

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

“What?”

“Go on.” Hux prodded him blindly with a foot. “I’m not calling you Lord Ren when we’re in bed together.”

A flash of embarrassment, as though Ren hadn’t considered the phrase “in bed together” in all its components, but then, quietly:

“Kylo.”

Of course Hux had known that was his name, but somehow “Kylo” sounded different without the appendage, smaller and quainter than his full military title. Hearing it on Ren’s lips sounded like an admission.

“Alright, Kylo. Stay on your side or you’re out.”

 _I’m bigger than you_ , Ren projected sleepily. _I’d like to see you try._

And then, as if to prove to the universe that he couldn’t resist being goaded by Hux, he let a heavy arm flop across Hux’s waist.

Hux was too tired to fight it.

Kylo could have one victory tonight.

 


	4. Pliant

 

Hux awoke with a shock of shame so powerful it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He awoke gasping, chest tight with emotion, and it took him several moments of frantic recollection to realize that the embarrassment he was experiencing wasn’t coming from his own mind, but Ren’s.

On the other side of the bed, Ren had jerked awake, and was now staring at Hux wide-eyed, his face frozen in a grimace. He couldn’t see much in the low light, but he could see the banked fire in Ren’s eyes.

“Ugh,” Hux managed, piecing it together. The man was embarrassed – about last night, about what he’d permitted Hux to do to him – and like any strong emotion in Ren, it came with a significant dose of anger that he couldn’t help but project, and which he was now struggling and failing to subdue.

Ren’s eyes snapped away the moment Hux met his gaze, furiously aware that Hux was receiving everything he was feeling. Ren slumped back onto the bed in defeat and angled himself away from Hux, his body curling in on itself protectively.

Hux couldn’t help but feel relieved that the feelings churning in his chest weren’t his own. He wasn’t in the habit of regretting his sexual experiences and he wasn’t about to start now, not even for Kylo Ren.

He didn’t want Ren thinking he had that much control over him.

He wasn’t certain what it meant that he seemed to have that power over Ren.

Hux lowered himself back onto the bed at Ren’s side, attempting to put a stopper on the emotions that were being pumped into him. No such luck. Hux was caught between disgust – he hadn’t asked Ren to open himself up like this, and he certainly hadn’t asked to be on the receiving end of it – and oddly affected by the fact that Ren was so new to this that he couldn’t keep his own morning-after anxieties to himself.

Between them, in the dark, the silence stretched out, but Hux could feel everything that Ren was feeling, including his awkwardness about the situation.

“That’s a terrible way to wake up,” Hux mumbled into his pillow, finally. “No wonder you don’t do this often.”

An unsurprising stab of anger, twisted into an accusation.

“Don’t be like that,” Hux yawned, too tired to be truly cutting. He wondered what time it was. Until Ren had woken him, he’d been supremely comfortable. His limbs felt relaxed and pleasantly heavy, though he could feel his headache creeping back at the corners. It was clearly far too early for – well, for whatever this was.

That, apparently, was the wrong response; Hux felt another wave of mingled anger and frustration sluice through him. Ren hadn’t rallied after last night, hadn’t been able to. Hux could feel, despite Ren’s best efforts, how he was still too close to it.

One more thing to tend to, then.

Sighing to himself, Hux turned over onto his side to look at the other man and his dangerously bitten bottom lip.

“What?” Ren snapped, knuckles knotted in Hux’s sheets. He was clearly trying to curb himself, but he sounded so close to a tantrum that Hux had to repress a smile in spite of it all.

Hux wasn’t afraid of Ren hurting him any more, although it was entirely possible that Ren wanted to, but he felt he might not forgive him if Hux said anything … _unkind_. Not when he was so raw, when he was failing so spectacularly to tamp down his Force projection. Hux swallowed the words on his tongue.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he said instead, laying his head back down.

Ren blinked.

Hux had wanted to take Ren apart, to see him submit, if only for a little while – and he had. This was just clean-up, just maintenance after the fact, the same way he would sometimes run his hands over the welts he’d caused, to make sure the skin wasn’t damaged too badly.

That was as good a reason as any, Hux justified to himself. Just maintenance.

“Come on,” ordered Hux, eyes slipping closed, “lie back down.”

This close, he thought he could hear Ren’s heart beat – or perhaps that was just Ren listening to his and pushing it back at him.

 _What will help you calm down?_ Hux attempted to think at him.

“I’m fine,” Ren snapped, lying outrageously.

But Ren couldn’t prevent the image from rising to the front of his mind – and consequently, to the front of Hux’s mind – the fleetest thought of skin on skin, a hand, the circular rub of a thumb against a shoulder blade, more of an impression of motion and warmth than an image of the hand itself – before he snatched the memory back jealously. The impression remained in Hux’s mind, however, and Hux dug into the feeling beneath it: the tangible comfort of a physical touch, precious then because of its brevity, precious now because of its absence. No one had touched him, not really, since …

_I was a spoiled child._

Nobody since.

Well. It wasn’t a difficult or unpleasant thing to do, if it would stop the mental thrashing coming from Ren’s side of the bed.

Hux shuffled a little closer under the covers. Without hesitating – it was important not to show fear in front of a wild thing – he slid his arm around Ren’s shoulder and pulled him in. Ren responded to the direction sullenly, easing back into Hux’s chest with no very good will, but he didn’t resist, as Hux thought he might. The lure of physical contact was strong, and the effect was almost immediate.

Something seemed to click inside Ren’s brain, and the tension began to unspool from his body. Hux let his arm drape loosely, but even then he could tell how tightly Ren had wound himself up inside his own head. Like a child, he assumed that one error was a catastrophe, that giving into Hux in one thing meant a permanent loss of face in all things.

One day, Hux might attempt to tell him that that wasn’t true.

If Hux was being honest, he didn’t mind this so much. Hux’s aspirations were too lofty to allow him much time to pursue his personal inclinations. He hadn’t had time for this since arriving aboard the _Finalizer_ , but at the Academy, he remembered liking this part, actually, when he managed to carve out the opportunity for himself.

Recalling a sensation that had floated underneath the images from Ren’s mind, Hux let the fingers from his other hand card through Ren’s hair. It was heavy, and surprisingly soft, and Ren let him.

It was weird. But then, so was the fact that Ren had submitted to him in the first place, hadn’t killed him after that first slap. So here they were.

Hux was not a tender person, but his body had its desires and interests, like any other man’s. He hadn’t been sure how his body and Ren’s body were meant to fit together, but maybe this could work, surprising though it was. He took pride as well as pleasure in problem-solving, and Ren had been – was still – a stubbornly difficult puzzle.

Hux realized that Ren’s images had faded from the forefront of his mind; the seething emotions had gentled, and slipped out of him, unnoticed, though an ill-defined presence remained.

The tension that Hux had been carrying in his own shoulders was nowhere to be felt.

Eventually, slowly, Ren made a noise of disgust. Hux felt it in his chest, where Ren’s warm back was pressed up against Hux’s skin. Hux grinned – he couldn’t help himself.

“Better?”

“You know damn well it’s better,” was the response. “I’m not a child, you don’t need to _soothe_ me.”

He hadn’t meant to taunt, but Kylo Ren was in no mood to be anything other than petulant. He was abashed: ashamed at enjoying Hux’s gentle touches, ashamed that Hux was here to see it. It would have been a warning sign, if Hux hadn’t known that there was nothing about last night that Ren actually regretted, other than what he perceived to be his own weakness.

“Turn this way,” Hux ordered. He kept his voice neutral, free of sweetness or inflection, anything that might be interpreted as mockery, and after a moment, Ren did as he said.

His dark eyes were shuttered, his expression – finally – guarded.

“You don’t need to do this,” he muttered again, though he laid his head back down on the pillow.

Hux responded with a non-committal noise, and continued to stroke his hair.

Ren snorted, narrowing his eyes. “You never bothered with this before.”

“I didn’t know you wanted it,” Hux replied reasonably. “You could have just asked.”

Ren rolled his eyes, as though he was going to fight about it, but Hux headed him off by raising a hand to Ren’s mouth.

“Lick,” he ordered.

Ren’s eyes went wide and angry – anger seemed to be his default mode when he was surprised – but after a moment, he seemed to reject his first response, and he took Hux’s forefinger into his mouth.

Eyes never leaving Hux’s, he licked around the digit, slicking it with tongue. He moved cautiously, like he was afraid Hux was going to tell him he was doing it wrong, or mock him for obeying so readily.

“Good,” Hux said instead, relishing the cautious motions of Ren’s mouth. “Get them wet.”

He pulled his fingers out, and he felt Ren tense in surprise as he dropped his hand to Ren’s chest, shifting the covers out of the way.

“How are you?” Hux asked, leisurely sliding his wet digits along either side of Ren’s nipple. “Still sensitive?”

Ren made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and Hux couldn’t resist. Shifting a little further down on the bed, he pressed a kiss to Ren’s sternum, then put his mouth directly on Ren’s chest.

He was warm, and the sound that burst out his throat was warm, too. All that muscle generated so much heat. Surprise notwithstanding, Ren was eager and alert enough to be responsive, and for a while Hux merely contented himself with kissing his nipples, toying with them between his spit-slicked fingers.

Ren hissed. His nipples were sensitive from their extensive treatment last night, but Hux could tell he was enjoying it – the roiling whispers in the back of his mind had picked up again. Hux was content exploring the interesting feedback coming from Ren’s brain as he ran his fingers and lips over Ren’s skin. It wasn’t unpleasant, once he got over the fact that Ren was once again leaking into his brain uninvited.

Ren’s internal voice was softer in the morning, or maybe he was more relaxed, knowing that they had done this once before and he had survived it, had _enjoyed_ it.

It was embarrassed and tentative and Hux could have kicked himself for how alluring he found it. He blamed it on the early hour.

“That’s a liability,” Hux murmured, “not being able to control it.”

“I usually can,” Ren grunted, sounding as though he was holding himself back from making a less dignified noise. “You’re just …”

“I’m just what?” Hux pressed as Ren trailed off, humming around a nipple.

Whatever Ren’s answer was, it was lost in a gasp as Hux took his teeth to the sensitive bud, and was rewarded with a flush of pleasure that subsumed the edges of his mind; it would have left a less disciplined man gasping.

One of Ren’s hands was knotting in the bedsheets; the other was tucked between their bodies, as though he wasn’t sure that Hux would allow him to touch. Hux had no such squeamishness: he locked his hands firmly around Ren’s ribcage, holding him as still as possible as he laved attention on Ren’s pert nipples.

He could feel how much Ren was enjoying this, but nothing compared to how Hux felt, having Ren gasping beneath him again, not bothering to throw up barbs or shields like last time. The man was staggeringly gorgeous like this, all his awkward angles laid bare, unable to hide behind a mask or his own facade.

“Control isn’t the … it’s not the point,” Ren responded eventually, shifting restlessly against Hux’s ministrations.

Hux hummed. He considered the possibility that Ren’s very odd training was as much of a source of his miserable personality as anything.

“What’s the point then, Ren?” Hux gave one nipple a tweak for emphasis, and Ren groaned.

“Control is … just … suppression,” Ren carried on, his face growing flushed and his breathing choppy as Hux continued. Hux had to admire the effort he was putting into steadying his voice – he was growing hard against Hux’s thigh. “Suppressing your power is – ah! – a light side myth. Real power in the Force comes from using it, from exercising your will. _Hells_ , Hux!”

Hux barely had a moment to grin. With a burst of energy that he hadn’t thought Ren capable of, Ren roused himself and pushed Hux’s head away. With a grunt that firmly said _enough_ , he rose and bodily shifted Hux onto his back.

Hux let him, didn’t resist. He let Ren settle him back against the bedclothes, pulling the sheets away impatiently, watched as that lithe body moved lower down the bed until his arms were bracketing Hux’s hips. It was typical Ren, sudden and impulsive and blunt – perhaps because he was aware he hadn’t played an active role the night before and wanted to get back on even footing, or maybe just to shut up the voices in his own head.

It was only when Hux felt hot breath against his cock that Ren paused, self-consciousness catching up with him. The sight of Ren fumbling over the barrier of his own inexperience hit Hux hard in a very small, very tender place he thought he’d left behind, and he was just about to say something – what, he didn’t know – when Ren dipped his head and swallowed him down.

Hux had, in weaker moments, considered what this might look like – Ren, with his odd mix of sulkiness and enthusiasm, taking the width of Hux’s cock between those full lips – but he had always envisioned it being colder: them in Ren’s quarters, Ren on his knees, torn between resisting and giving in, Hux with a strap in his hand, safe behind the protection of his uniform.

He hadn’t considered this: them both naked, him on his back with the taste of Ren’s skin on his mouth, Ren curled up against his thigh, there of his own initiative, sloppy and awkward and incredibly bad at it – and Hux almost laughed out loud, because Ren _was_ bad at this, Kylo Ren was going down on him and he was so bad at it, all tentative licks and uncertain fingers. Hux grinned to himself. Well.

He shifted on the bed and reached down to grip Ren’s hair. Not too tight, just enough to anchor him, and he immediately felt a whisper of Ren’s relief at the back of his mind, how much happier Ren was with Hux giving him direction in his, letting him know he wasn’t laughing at him.

“There,” Hux spoke aloud, pushing a thought at him, a suggestion of technique. “Just relax.” Ren’s mouth shifted around his length, readjusted, and oh, yes, that was much better. Hux felt the muscles of Ren’s neck begin to relax under his palm.

“Good,” said Hux, letting his eyes flutter to half-mast, letting his thoughts spool forth into Ren’s mind. “Right there.” Ren took his direction with a kind of dreamy obedience, giving in to Hux’s firm hand. Not that he needed it. There was only so much Hux could do to resist that mouth, and those dark eyes, and the feedback that was unfurling between them. Hux could feel him in his brain again, confidence growing, actively folding through Hux’s reactions rather than passively drowning in them – and, oh, yes, Ren was coming alive now – now that he was paying attention – could see what effect his actions were having on Hux, could tell what to do better with only a little psychic prodding – and oh –

“Good,” Hux groaned, speaking through his teeth as Ren’s large hands dug into the flesh of his hips, and it was good, so good, as Ren shifted to get a better angle.

“Touch yourself,” Hux commanded breathily, eyes falling shut, but he didn’t have to look down to know that Ren was doing as he said. Ren’s presence shivered in his mind with pleasure at his own touch, and Hux wondered how long it had been since Ren had touched himself.

 _How long?_ he asked Ren, and there was no reply, but he felt Ren moan around his cock at the pressure of his own hand, and that was answer enough – _too long_. Ren was close, Hux felt it – had been close ever since he’d felt Hux’s hand in his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

Hux came with a shout at the thought of Ren being aroused by a simple touch. His fist froze in Ren’s hair, locking him there, but Ren must have had enough warning because he was so good about it, kept his throat wide and inviting, swallowed it down like an expert. Hux felt his strong fingers tighten on his hips, felt his breath hot in his groin, felt his own pleasure rushing through his system and making his knees weak. Hux was panting, shivering at the strength of his orgasm, and still Ren stayed put, mouth hot and overflowing, and he only pulled away after the hot coil of arousal in Hux’s spine had begun to unfurl and his fingers loosened in his hair.

“Good boy,” Hux sighed a good while later, Ren’s head resting against his hip, an arm slung over his thighs. “You didn’t break anything this time.”

“You’re _not_ calling me that,” Ren mumbled, but Hux felt the brief flash of warmth that rose up on Ren’s chest at the praise.

Ren kept himself wide open, and that was where the danger lay. He was undisciplined by design: it was the source of his power and his weakness, and it was entirely deliberate. Engineered.

_What a terrible waste of talent you are, Ren._

Ren closed his eyes; Hux felt his eyelashes brush against his stomach.

 _That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me_.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

The silence that fell between them was warmer this time.

 _You have a headache_. Ren’s thought crossed Hux’s mind without warning.

“What?” mumbled Hux, irritably. “Yes, I usually have a headache.” He paused; then, half-joking: “It’s usually your fault.”

Ren looked up at him, baffled, but he reached up to touch Hux’s cheek with his long fingers. There was a wriggle of sensation, and the headache was gone, swept away.

Hux stared down at him; Ren looked faintly smug before letting his arm drop, and petting his head rest back against Hux’s abdomen.

“Snoke is using you,” said Hux, testing the idea out loud.

“No more than he’s using you,” Ren replied, in the dull tones of someone stating trite fact.

“Hm.” Hux didn’t doubt it was true, but he hadn’t expected Ren to have such clarity on the matter. Past experience had taught him to expect something a little more in the order of blind devotion when it came to Kylo Ren’s relationship with Snoke.

“I _am_ devoted,” Ren shot back.

“You don’t need to sound so stung, Ren. If you weren’t devoted to Supreme Leader Snoke, you wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be interfering with my orders all the time.”

“Excuse me if I don’t always have time to discuss things with a committee.”

“I’m not a committee,” Hux replied mildly.

“What’s the protocol on this?” Ren asked after a while, when the lazy strokes of Hux’s thumb against his temple had begun to slow.

“I’ve never know what the protocol is when it comes to you,” Hux groused, strangely comfortable. “For now, though, I have two more hours until I have to get up for my shift. We’re going to sleep. Then you’re going to medical.”

“Ask me nicely,” mumbled Ren.

“So we’re back there then?” Hux sighed. “Ren, I would fucking beg you if I thought it would get you to do a damn thing I said.”

“Good. I’ll remember that.”

Hux rolled his eyes, but Ren shifted, moving up on the bed so that he and Hux were eye to eye. It was difficult to see his exact expression in the low light.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Ren amended. “Just … don’t hit me again.”

Once again, Ren had laid himself bare, eyes wide and dark, and Hux felt a strange stab of melancholy that was entirely his own.

“I didn’t know you didn’t like it.”

“I did like it,” Ren said quickly. “I just like this better.”

Hux was at a loss – he was finding it difficult to speak, so in the end, he didn’t.

It was easier just to close the distance.

Just maintenance, he reminded himself, as he fit his lips to Ren’s. The other man’s body sank beneath him. This was just maintenance. Protecting this fragile peace. He could justify it. And it was remarkable, really, how pliant Ren was under his hand, when he’d gone gentle. This was practically a public service.

“Please shut up, General,” Ren grumbled, shifting so that he was tucked up against Hux’s side. “I can hear you thinking.”

“I'm spoiling you,” Hux muttered, but he let his hand curl up against Ren’s back, pulling him in.


End file.
